


First Comes the Light.

by TheGirlWithBrightEyes



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Broken TARDIS, Prose Poem, Psychedelic, Regeneration, Surreal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 16:07:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19976812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGirlWithBrightEyes/pseuds/TheGirlWithBrightEyes
Summary: A small poem imagining the experience of a regeneration.Unspecified Doctor. Regeneration taking place inside TARDIS.





	First Comes the Light.

First comes the lights. Fading in and out of existence, flickering, floating. Focusing. A pillar of light, strings of beads.

Then comes the breath and with it the smells. Fire. Burned cables. Frying circuit. The scent of melting glass. It's heavy to breathe. Chest expanding painfully, again and again.

A sense of awareness. Of being. Existing. Where is irrelevant. Not yet. Standing, the ground swaying softly like waves.

There's a mouth. A tongue. A taste of metal. It rolls, touches teeth, cheeks. Familiar and yet new. Dry lips.

Then...sounds. A pulse, drumming. Constant. Inside the chest, inside the ears, inside the head. Very real. Very _there_.

The sparks flying. The beeping of computers. The whirring of ventilation. An alarm ringing. A sense of not knowing why.

Thoughts like the breeze, like mist. Fading in and out. Too brief to grasp. Too insubstantial. It's not important. Not yet.

A tingle through veins, travelling up the spine, down to feet, finding their way into fingertips. Muscles twitch, demanding to be moved. To be used.

A sense of unreal. Blinking. Breathing. Flexing fingers. Then...thoughts. A streaming swirl of thoughts. They make no sense. Not yet. Just a sense of purpose. A need.

Eyes lift, staring. Taking in. Familiar and yet... And yet...

New. It's new. A realisation.

Born again.


End file.
